The Wuthering Tales
by daffodils-for-thrills
Summary: Chaucer-style prologues for Catherine, Heathcliff, Edgar, and Isabella.
1. Catherine

**I actually wrote these four prologues for school for a project on Wuthering Heights. It was an open-ended project, so we could pretty much do anything, and I decided to write prologues for four of the main characters like Chaucer's in The Canterbury Tales. Catherine, Heathcliff, Edgar, and Isabella are all perfect subjects for this. I included (or tried to include) their physical description, personality, and fatal flaw. If you've read it, then you know that they all have a fatal flaw. Probably more than one, but I just chose which one I liked.**

**Enjoy.**

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The Wuthering Tales: Catherine's Prologue

There was a girl, the head of this all—

For indeed her part in this was not small;

She was the one who had brought them together

As if they were each just a dog on her tether.

A very cheerful person was she,

But one who could change most suddenly

Into a very wicked thing

That anger, grief, and fuss would bring.

Her chestnut ringlets and dark sparkle eyes

Were the base of her truly beauteous guise,

And her very first trip to Thruscross Grange

Had brought about this beauteous change.

This dame had stolen more than one heart—

Inspiring love for her was an art—

But when a hand she had to choose,

She wasn't properly sure of whose,

So she was very upset that night,

And wondered if who she had chosen was right.

Her reasons for choosing were very fickle,

And so she was found to be in a pickle.

The one _not_ chosen, however so,

A selfish truth was made to know:

To marry him, she said, would degrade her,

Although for him her love was the greater.


	2. Heathcliff

The Wuthering Tales: Heathcliff's Prologue

There was a boy—a gipsy, some said—

Whom many people looked on with dread.

He was quite the villainous fiend;

In every matter he intervened.

Quite a few had felt the control

Of this damned and wicked soul.

He used them all to fulfill his revenge,

His breathless, bloodless belovéd avenge.

This was his purpose, in every breath;

His very life had sprung from death.

While she was living, he'd hardly expressed

The love he'd felt to his very best.

Love he had, but more was his hate,

And so to none could he fully relate.

To haunt him he wanted her after she'd passed,

And haunt him she did to the very last.

His dark, cavern eyes—so full of rage—

Would often with her ghost engage.

His dark, foreign skin would then turn pale—

For when he saw her, he would quail.

In light of this, he wouldn't eat—

Seeing her ghost was his only treat—

And gradually, he withered away,

To never live another day.


	3. Edgar

The Wuthering Tales: Edgar's Prologue

There was a boy who lived not far

From where the grounds of Wuthering Heights are,

And fate so had it that came a day

When the mistress was made at his house to stay.

There must have sprung from that time a spark

Of love that rose like a graceful lark,

For from then on, these two—he and she—

Timid, young lovers then came to be.

But came a day when he went to her house

In hopes of meeting his likely spouse

And witnessed some cruelty of hers firsthand

That this simple-souled, blue-eyed blondie couldn't stand.

Even so, he forgave her and they married,

But soon his wife in the ground would be buried.

He forbade her from seeing her longstanding friend—

A measure that led to her tragic end.

She shut herself up in her room, didn't eat—

Hoping in this way he'd meet his defeat.

She lost her wits, it can be said—

She wasn't right then in the head.

From pity and charity her he attended—

Duty and humanity in there blended.

He then, while the illness her temper subdued,

Brought about the child that her life would conclude.


	4. Isabella

The Wuthering Tales: Isabella's Prologue

There was a girl who looked akin

To her brother in her eyes, and her hair, and her skin—

Her eyes were blue and her hair was blond—

But siblings and looks were their only bond.

Not even siblings—not even so—

For the path this girl had chosen to go.

Her brother for choosing the path would disown her;

The man she had chosen—the path—would then own her.

It came about in this very way:

Her sister's friend came over one day.

This girl—still young, with her hot little heart—

To love this friend of her sister's would start.

It could be said that she lacked discretion,

But in any case, he had made his impression.

He soon found out, and she tried to deny it,

But her heart had spoken, and she couldn't defy it.

When it so seemed that her love he returned

Was when her back on her family she turned.

She ran away, and married got—

Realized then that love it was not.

Her spirit went from light to dark;

Her features went from sunny to stark.

Her life after that was not what she expected.

She wished that his "heart"—that his "love"—she'd rejected.


End file.
